


Fate/Academia

by orphan_account



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fate/ Fusion, BAMF Midoriya Izuku, Dead Midoriya Inko, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms References, Gen, Holy Grail War (Fate), I'm Sorry Midoriya Inko, Izuku is an Akatani, Magic Circuits, Midoriya Izuku Does Not Have One for All Quirk, Midoriya Izuku has Magic Circuits, Midoriya Izuku is a Mage, Original Character(s), Quirkless Midoriya Izuku, The Clock Tower (Fate), U.A. High School (My Hero Academia), technically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27182366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Izuku Akatani hadn't been back home for almost a decade. Instead, his Home had been in England, at the Clock Tower. Now, a Holy Grail War has begun, and Izuku Akatani finds himself back in Japan, about to become a pawn in a War of Villains and Heroes, as well as the key to ending the War to stop all Grail Wars.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	Fate/Academia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is more of an imagining then a story. Kinda like throwing out an idea.
> 
> I have a lot on right now, but this was in my drafts so I'd prefer to post it than have it be deleted - again. Maybe this will inspire other writers? We'll see ahah. Anyway, I thought of this late at night about a month or so ago.

Izuku stared at his father, who sat behind his desk, his research book open and a fountain pen stationed inside its stand. There were papers stacked and sprawled everywhere, the comforting smells of old tomes and history permeating the air. Logs crackled in the fireplace, the orange light casting everything in a warm atmosphere, glinting off the silver ornaments and the glass display case with its dancing flames. His father’s study had always been a place of comfort for him, the cozy air it gave off always settled him for a pleasant day of reading. Rainy days were the best, as the rain would drum soothingly on the glass pane opposite the mantelpiece, the silhouette and reflection meeting together to form a beautiful symphony of calm.

Right now, sat in his favourite chair, he felt off kilter.

“The Association has nominated me?” He’s unsure whether he sounds more disbelieving or astounded. Either way, he’s confused to the Root and back. It’d only been a week since the last magic circuits had been passed from his father to him. The crest had completely formed on him now, lying just under his collarbone – not that he had mana running through it to see the red sigil. He was passing all his classes at the Clock Tower, enjoying his time among fellow magi while they learn about their world. A world separate to quirks. A world where magic was taught and practiced.

“You are an exceptional mage, Izuku. I knew that when I found you teaching yourself incantations meant for 10 year olds at the age of 7.” There’s a fondness in his eyes as he flips a page. “I and the Association think you would be the most suitable candidate to put forward for this mission, should you choose to accept it.”

Izuku took some time to think on this. After all, it’d been ten years since he’d last been there. Ten years since everything changed. Home to him now was England. It was the Clock Tower, this house with his father, learning about magic with friends. It was the humid streets of London, the obsession over the weather, having people apologizing to people and things almost reflectively.

The last time he’d been there, in Japan, the only good thing he’d had was taken away from him for good. Whenever he thought about it, all he could see was a freshly laid grave, a single rose and then the sound of the car door closing as they left for the airport. He remembered a blond boy who’d been his friend, who then turned his back on him. The last images he sees when he thinks of him are a smiling face with a tooth missing, holding up a toy figure, then a hateful glare and sneer, shoulder turned away from him.

“They nominated me because I’m the right age to attend, didn’t they?”

His father lifted up his cup of tea, blowing on it. “Partly,” his father agreed honestly, taking a sip of the drink. Izuku could recognize it as his father’s favourite blend – smoked orange and cinnamon with basil leaf. He’d always said that it helped clear the senses, so he preferred it when sitting down to write and research for long periods of time. “As you know, there are plenty of students at the Clock Tower and abroad who could qualify if that were the only condition we considered in our selection.”

“And what were the other reasons?”

His father turned his bespectacled eyes away as he looked at the shelves upon shelves of books that were packed away from the floor to the high ceiling. Their house had been modelled in the neo-Georgian period, a century or so ago. There were panels on the walls, carpet runners in the corridors, old antiques placed around the three-story house. The basement was by far the greatest place to be, after the study. It was filled with old artifacts, and whenever they would practice magic when he was younger, the basement was where they’d go. It felt imbued with the energy of magic – like a piece of every ancestor who practiced inside there was infused into the very stone. There were scorch marks and potshots in the walls and floor, even the ceiling. The blue lanterns that lit up the room made the space even more magical.

“In order to do this, we need someone who can blend into the Hero course, someone who already knows about heroes and the ideology in Japan. Someone who wouldn’t be seen as an immediate threat.” His father starts, placing his cup back on it’s saucer as his ruby eyes meet emerald. “We know that already, two servants of a possible seven are already in play. Those two are the berserker class, and the assassin class.”

“Why the hero course? Why not just general studies?”

“The one who apparently has possession of the Holy Grail, happens to be a powerful villain, whose existence has been wiped from history in order to protect the public.”  
Izuku could already see how complicated this would be.

“And the Association wants an inexperienced mage to do this?”

His father raised a brow. “No,” he denies, “they want to plant you in the hero course to gather information and track down the location of the Holy Grail.” His father gives him a proud smile as he adds, “you were always very good at tracking, Izuku. And your mind is a great tactical weapon when you put it to use on other things than helping Wren find his keys all the time.”

“Then why must I summon a servant?”

His father turns serious. “I disagreed with that part as well. The board, however, were adamant that we needed to hurry and place our mages into the war before it was too late. Having you fill in a slot would be beneficial if anything went awry with our other mage candidate. After all, servants can change mages if they still have command seals left over.”

Izuku sighed. He knew he couldn’t exactly refuse the board on this. If they wanted him to do this, he would be doing this. Regardless on his feelings on the matter. Maybe he could take this as an opportunity to be with his mother again, and see how life could’ve been if he’d been born with a quirk instead of magic circuits. He’d still get to do his research into the whereabouts of the lost expedition to Avalon. Hopefully. 

“I’ll start packing, then.”

* * *

  
Izuku watched the taxi as it drove away, leaving him with his bags as he looked at his new home for the next however long this mission would take. They’d chosen to put him back in his old home, where he and his mother had lived before – before she left them and this world. He clutched the wooden box the Association had sent him before he left. The letter had explained that it was a relic of the hero they wanted him to summon. The Famed Heroin of the Leviathan Peninsula, Elimia of Seraithia. It was what remained of her spear, said to be forged from the love of a powerful siren. He’d read the story as a child, along with many stories that he’d found in the world of the Magi that he would’ve never known as a normal person. After the medieval mage hunts of the pre-quirk eras, Magi had kept a tight lid on their existence – keeping such stories and people from the conscious mind of the public. It was a shame, really. If he’d known about such things, we would’ve believed more in himself as a kid. But still, such stories still found there ways into the non-Magi world.

Leviathan were known mythical creatures of the deep, after all. As were Sirens. The story of the Leviathan Killer could still be found on the Internet, just not with the same detail and accuracy the Magi had in their books.   
He shook the thoughts off and hoisted up his things to the door, still labelled with the name “Midoriya” beside it. As part of this mission, he would be returning to that name. Akatani was too well-known in the Magi world. Any self-respecting mage would be able to tell in a heartbeat that he was a mage with that name. For his role in this war, he’d have to be as low-profile as possible. 

Looking at the door, it looked the same as when he’d left. Maybe a little older, but the same nonetheless. Would everything look like it had before? He huffed at himself. Of course it would, maybe with more dust though, he admonished himself. Digging out his key, he turned it in the stiff lock, a rusted click sounding as he pulled the door open. Dust floated in the air as he looked inside, a feeling bubbling up as he caught sight of a pair of his mother’s shoes in the entrance. He hesitantly stepped in, dumping his bags inside as he toed off his shoes, moving them beside the small red shoes he’d always loved to wear but hadn’t been able to take with him to England. It was so strange to see them now, not just rely on his memories. As he slowly walked through the apartment, it was like he was drifting through memories, watching their echoes in this empty house, like a stranger looking in. When he arrived at his old room, he traced the old plaque with his finger, then pushed the door open. Wow, he thought distantly, planting himself in the middle of the space, turning slowly to take it all in. He really had been obsessed with heroes – especially All Might. He looked at everything with a critical eye, catching sight of his old analysis notebooks with a fond smile as he flipped through them. The childish writing and drawing brought a bittersweet taste to his mouth as he thought back to his younger self, sitting sentry-like in front of the TV, scribbling furiously as he muttered about the hero he was analysing. He remembered that he’d always show his mother these notebooks, and ramble on and on about heroes to her. She never complained about it, always smiled, but there was a sadness in her eyes, a regret. He knew she’d blamed herself for his lack of a quirk. Blamed herself until – he shut the notebook and placed it back in the dust spot it occupied.

He had a good amount of hours to waste before he would summon his servant. It was only ten in the morning, after all. With that in mind, he set himself to going out to buy food and cleaning supplies, also some boxes to store things away. When he got back, he’d get in touch with the utility company and Internet providers to see about getting them working for the apartment. It didn’t seem like it’d be that difficult to get sorted. After all, it was mainly just a matter of payment and flipping the switch or lever on the supplier’s end. He might have to check if the boiler was still serviceable, but he could manage financially with not only his father’s monthly allowance, but his mother’s inheritance and what he’d earned at his part-time café job in London. If they needed to send an engineer or electrician down to him, he could get by in the meantime with convenience food and his power banks. Or he could book a few nights in a hotel, but he’d rather get started on setting down defences around the apartment than leaving his base undefended.

Dropping his bags on the dusty couch, he placed the box inside his backpack and grabbed his wallet and phone. If he remembered right, there was a small store a few blocks away. He typed into _Moogle_ directions to the nearest store just as a failsafe, texting his father and friends back home that he’d arrived safe and sound. Most of his friends sent mugs in the group chat, saying they missed him and to send a picture of things he sees in Japan to them. He decides to send a picture of a traffic light, with the caption: _so you want things like this everyday???_

That got him a few laugh reactions and rude gestures.

He tucked his phone back into his pocket as he stepped through the sliding doors, that chimed his arrival as the store clerk greeted him. He greeted in kind, slightly delayed after his time in Britain, and hurried to gather everything he’d need. Luckily, he hadn’t forgotten to grab his mother’s old shopping bag, the large one that she’d always told him was bottomless whenever she’d unload it back home. He’d flapped it free of dust on the way here, and stuffed all his bought products into the bag as quickly as possible. The latter part was practically reflective, after all the self-service checkouts he’d used in London. The cashier had given him a suspicious look for it, but he ignored it as he thanked them and left.

Back at the apartment, it was almost time to summon his servant. He’d worked like a dog to clean the apartment, fortunately having his utilities up and running again with some easy calls to the supplier. The Internet issue would be resolved early tomorrow, since they wanted to install a new router and fix the land-line connection. He’d agreed to it, then turned his phone into a hot-spot for his laptop as he sold off his All Might shrine and old furniture on _Aday_ , along with buying new furniture and getting his old room cleared out to practice and work in. His mother’s old room had turned into his room, or at least, that was the plan. After this is all over, he’d probably rent out this place while he goes back to the Clock Tower to study. He was sending a few boxes back home to keep the memories and pictures of his mother, something they hadn’t done in the rush his father had been through to get back to England. He was sure his father would appreciate it, seeing as he was always looking at the picture of her on his desk in the study.

He’d cleared the floor in the empty bedroom, and poured out the mercury onto the ground in the proper sigil to summon a servant. In the middle of it, he’d laid down the broken spear, which reflected off the burning crystals he’d set up to illuminate the room. Opposite him, he’d taken out his old All-Might alarm clock, watching in anticipation for the hands to strike three. Once it did, he would begin.

Now.

He stood up from the floor, stepped towards the circle, and held out his arm to begin the incantation. Inside his hand, he held the stones he’d be using to help in his summoning, running his magic through his crest as it lit up on his collarbone in a beautiful red like his family’s name.

“Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone.

The ancestor is my great master Feuerstein.

The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate.

Fill.  
Fill.   
Fill.  
Fill.   
Fill.

Repeat every five times.

Simply, shatter once filled.

Elimnia of Seraithia I announce.

Your self is under me, my fate is in your sword.

In accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.

Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead.

You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance!”

Light erupted from the circle as a figure emerged. They were female, and shorter than him by a head. They had pale, almost translucent skin, with silky looking deep-purple hair. They wore strange clothing, and when they looked up, he was met with the eyes of the deep.

“I have come by your call, Master.” She said, her voice seeming to echo in its smoothness as she stepped forward. It was a fluid step, like she was water itself. “I am Elimnia of Seraithia, or for this war, you may call me by my role, Lancer.”

Izuku smiled at his servant and held out his hand. Lancer looked at the limb steadily, before grasping it in her own, elegant hand, the nails painted a deep blue. “I look forward to working with you, Lancer.”

They let go, and Lancer stepped back, skirting around the room as she stated, “you will be quite the strange Master... I look forward to seeing how this all plays out.”

Izuku decided not to think about that too deeply as he rubbed his neck. “You can just call me Izuku, it’s a little strange to be called Master.”

“But that is your title, as Servant is mine.” He wonders if that playfulness he heard was real or just his imagination.

“But we’re partners here. It’s not like I’ll order you all the time and you’ll follow me around. Partners call each other by their names.”

“Ho,” he thinks he hears spoken softly, “then I will call you Izuku, if it makes you so uncomfortable.”

He thanks Lancer and shows her around the apartment, newly cleaned and cluttered with boxes and packaged _Aday_ orders he’d be sending off tomorrow. Most of them were All-Might merch, explaining why they’d sold so quickly. The old furniture would take more time, but he was hoping to snag college kids in with the low prices and decent condition. It was, after all, coming close to that time for them. To move into dorms and such. If he remembered right, anyway. 

A yawn followed as he finished up the small tour, though he still dragged himself away from his futon and led Lancer to the kitchen island. He asked her if she wanted anything, to which she paused but answered with some tea. He got the kettle going, and set up the mugs, one with coffee and the other with tea he’d brought with him on the off-chance he wanted any, and turned to look at Lancer.

It was so strange to see how human she looked, even though she was only half-human. If the legends are to be believed, the girl before him was born from the union of a male siren and a human woman, then cast out to sea in shame and hatred by her royal mother. Instead of dying, her cradle washed up on the shores of a small fishing village, where the village took her in and raised her. Because of her deep connection to the seas, she was a famed fisher and sailor. Her beauty and voice was unmatched by all who gazed at or heard her, due to her siren ancestry. Because of this connection, she became the bridge between human and siren. A young but powerful siren, named Corael, came upon the beautiful village girl and fell in love at the sight of her. He approached her as a friend, and taught her the secrets of the ocean. When the great sea leviathan came to swallow the peninsula in its anger towards the humans for their greed and reaping of the seas, it was Elimnia, the exiled daughter of royalty, the abandoned child, that took up the fight and fought the great Devourer. Corael, knowing he could not stop the girl from fighting the monster, forged her the greatest weapon in all the seven seas, Leviusea, the Leviathan Killer. He gave her this weapon on her journey to the leviathan, giving her his warrior pearls as good luck. Where all mortal men perished, it was she, half-mortal half-monster, that took down the great sea monster. In repayment for her great deed, Elimnia was given a grand cloak stitched with her battle from the King of Seraithia. It was said that this cloak flowed and rippled like water, and that the designs were alive, fated to play out her legend for all eternity. These two items were hidden for now as he looked at the beautiful if ethereal girl before him.

“You should sleep, Izuku. We shall get started in the morning.” He blinked out of his daze and nodded, feeling his ears burn as he rushed off to his futon. Lancer was right after all. Tomorrow, he would be setting up wards and taking a look around the city to start his search. He’d also have to report back to the Association on his success in summoning a servant. And wait for the engineer to come and sort out the land-line and router for the Internet. And send off the packages and schedule a meeting with the principal of UA.

He sighed but held up his hand to see the red command seals that covered the back. It showed his connection with Lancer. His mission. He turned his hand into a fist. Then he dropped his arm and settled down to get some sleep.

* * *

It’d been a couple days of settling into the rhythm of things. He had his Internet up and running, his packages sent, wards up, report given, meeting scheduled and self fed and showered. Lancer had made him breakfast and woken him up from his sleep, something he was glad for as they were now setting off to start eliminating places off the map in their search for the Grail. Lancer had chosen to be in spirit form, and so he decided to use this time to visit places he’d used to know so well. He wondered how his old friend was now. Was he still as angry as he was before? Even worse? He knew the blond boy would never give up his dream to be the number one hero. Kacchan had always been amazing. Probably always will be. He had admired his old friend like he had with All-Might. After all, he’d always been the best at everything. He was victory to Izuku before he knew what magic really was. In a sense, Kacchan still was victory to him. Even with how things turned out between them, he still wished Kacchan the best in his pursuits. It felt strange to him that he’d probably see him in UA – if not the same class. How would he react to seeing the Deku again, he pondered, looking at the rusted Park swings they’d once played on together. Not only that, but seeing his “quirk”. Would he even remember Izuku? He shook his head. It didn’t matter.

He shook off the thoughts and continued showing Lancer around Musutafu while he checked for any magical energy. He’d always been sensitive to things, oddly intuitive to people’s emotions as a child. This sensitivity helped him with tracking things down. Normally, he’d have to know the energy of the owner of what he was tracking, in order to find the lost object. The Grail, in that sense, would be the reverse to this theory, and the servant would be the object. It was a theory he’d thought of when his father had explained to him the history of the Grail Wars, a child-like solution that with more thought given, seemed plausible enough to try at least. He wasn’t a homunculus by any stretch of the imagination, but he most certainly was sharp in his observation skills.

_Master, I believe we should head back home for now._ Izuku sighed but agreed with Lancer, crossing off another place as he walked to the station. Apparently, Saber, Archer and Caster had joined the playing board, leaving only Rider to be summoned in the bid for the Grail. The Association had told him that they’d claimed both Saber and Archer, meaning Caster was an unknown for now, along with Berserker and Assassin. The Association didn’t want any of them working together directly on this, for some reason. It didn’t really matter at the moment. What he was worried about were the unknowns, rather than his not-allies allies right now.

Casters were known to be the most dangerous class to their Masters. If a non-magi or weak mage summoned the servant, he knew what would start happening. Bodies. Media going on about serial killers. Panic. Then Heroes would be out on the street, doubling down on criminals to show the public they were doing their work. That they were tracking down the culprit. It would snowball from there if that happened. Especially when the heroes realised the culprit wasn’t human.

Entering his fortress, he sighed and got started on some dinner. Lancer came out to help him, something he was finding she enjoyed doing. If she wanted to do that, it was up to her. He did appreciate the company, and the help though. As they sat down to eat together, they stayed in a comfortable silence, only interrupted by the sounds of eating and chopsticks hitting china.

Cleaning up, he could see Lancer on his laptop, a pair of headphones on her head as it bobbed from side to side. When he realised what she was doing, he almost dropped his plate at the absurdity. She was dressed in the clothes he’d gotten her in case she needed to blend in. If he didn’t know she was the Leviathan Killer, he would’ve thought she was a normal girl his age. Like a roommate. Or a girlfriend. 

He left her to enjoy herself, and finished up the final plate, placing it to dry. He then gave a wave goodnight as he slipped into his room, checking his invitation once more to make sure he’d be prepared. Tomorrow was the day he’d be meeting the Principal of UA. Nezu, one of the smartest beings in the world. And one of the rare cases recorded of an animal having a quirk. As he read through the email, he could feel a bit of nervousness at the mention of meeting his homeroom teacher, who would be in the know about mages. Regardless, he wasn’t here to actually become a hero. He was here just to find the Holy Grail. Then he’d be going home.  
Lancer wakes him up again in the morning, bringing in a tray of pancakes with compote and yoghurt, along with some syrup as she leaves him to get ready. He’s still very confused on how he should file that information away about Lancer – the information that, not only is does she like cooking, but that she learns to cook things fast. He of course knew that Servants were given knowledge to help them acclimate to the time, place and Master they would be summoned to, but it was hard for him to see it being proven in something as mundane as cooking. His overthinking brain just wanted to latch onto that and study it, but he knew it wouldn’t be appreciated by the Association if he made a bad impression with the heroes over curiosity.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive outside of UA. As the email instructed, he waited outside the blue entrance gate, the gold ‘UA’ proudly gleaming above them. Lancer was back in spirit form once more, abiding by his plan to stay as low-profile as possible until their opponents and their Servants were revealed. To go with this, he wore black gloves over his hands, that fit snugly over his fingers like a second skin. He’d dressed in his normal clothes for this meeting, his hair styled how he’d usually have it after discovering the wondrous benefits of cosmetic magic. Truly, his hair has never been the same after finding and mastering it.

Cutting his eyes to the approaching figure, he found a scruffy man wearing a long scarf, black clothes and gold belt. He looked like insomnia and suffering to Izuku, who met his blood-shot eyes as he came closer. The man then handed him his visitor’s pass, and introduced himself in a drawl. “My name is Aizawa Shota. Follow me.”

Izuku nodded, following the man through the impressive halls of UA closely. For a guy who looks a coffee away from dying by ODing on caffeine, he moves quickly. They’re before the Principals office in no time.

“Come in,” a squeaky voice calls to us before Aizawa even knocks. The door opens for them as they walk into the office, seeing the small furry Principal settling down a tea set for them. He calls them both to sit on the sofa as he offers them each tea, to which Izuku accepts and Aizawa declines. Once all the pleasantries are out of the way, the formalities begin.

“I believe you already know, but I am the Principal of UA, Nedzu!” The animal formally introduces. Izuku smiles politely and replies in kind to the principal, using his mage name as a sign of good faith. “The Association spoke highly of you, Mr Akatani.” He keeps his surprise under wraps at that. Maybe they meant his father, he reasons. “I heard you were able to summon a Servant for this new War being started. May I see it?”

He feels Aizawa’s eyes on him as he gently places his tea down. “I don’t see why not, Mr Nedzu.”

Lancer materialises beside him, wearing her strange clothing once more. Her eyes bore into the tiny principal before she introduces herself. “I am Izuku Akatani’s Servant, Lancer.”

The Principal’s black beady eyes gleam in fascination as he watches Lancer, clapping his paws together as his tail swishes. “How interesting! Mages are quite fascinating!”

Their meeting then moved on to explain the conditions he would need to meet in order to participate in the course. The man who’d led him in, Mr Aizawa, turned out to be his homeroom teacher for the duration he would be attending UA. He’d explained rather bluntly that he wouldn’t be afraid to expel him from his class if he didn’t try to pretend to want to work hard in the course. And that he didn’t agree with letting him in to the hero course to begin with. Lancer kept quiet as she stayed in physical form and drank the tea. After they’d ironed most of the details, they finally moved onto his cover.

“You said that you would be enrolling under the name ‘Izuku Midoriya’, and that your quirk would be ‘Pyro-manipulation’. Can you explain how this ‘quirk’ would work for me, Mr Akatani?”

Izuku recrossed his legs as he leveled the Principal with a calm smile. “Of course,” he agreed, before suggesting, “would you prefer that I show you an example first before I explain?”

The Principal agreed and so they moved their meeting outside. The Principal watched from Mr Aizawa’s shoulder as Izuku stood before them. Lancer had went back into spirit form, so it was only the three of them.

“Begin whenever you are ready.”

Izuku outstretched his arm, feeling the familiar hum of magic in his veins as he visualised his spell, the sigil unfurling from his palm as he called, “Feuerlanze”. Three large spears of fire launched themselves forwards. One pierced the ground and dispersed the flames, burning the grass. Once the flames extinguished themselves, a charred circle remained. Another dropped into his hand. The last waited, and then pierced the ground, then extinguished itself without affecting the area like the first.

The Akatani family specialised in Fire Manipulation, though in recent generations, it had expanded into the element of Air as well. Izuku had shown early on that he had an affinity for both elements, and so came his creation of Feuerlanze. By using the control from Air manipulation and the power of Fire manipulation, he’d been able to create spears of fire that he could shoot at his enemies. He had created it from a young age, under his father’s supervision and guidance. Most of the basic application stemmed from his father’s own creation of firebreath – or as it was truly named, Feueratem. Instead of using whirlwind merged with fire, he’d applied weapon magic to retain form. It took a high-level of magic to perform, and concentration to create.

Dropping his arm, and in the process, dismissing his firelance, Izuku turned to face the UA staff members. He then explained how his ‘quirk’ would work, using his demonstration as an example of what he was capable of doing within reason to a ‘quirk’. Of course, he left out the technical details, knowing that he would be in for it with the Magi community if he gave specifics to outsiders. Already, this mission rested on the line between safe and rule-breaking for him. If he gave too much away about Magecraft, he was beyond dead.

With everything sorted out, he was given his itinerary, school uniform and a form to fill out for his ‘hero costume’. For all intents and purposes, he would be attending UA as a hero-in-training. He wouldn’t be given leeway in classes, nor would he be given leeway for performance in practicals. Izuku left the two with a polite bow as he walked back through the gate, heading back to base to begin his preparations for the War.


End file.
